Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Meet the Iconics - Ry (Monk - Aetherist)

Want more? January is the last month to preorder the Salt in Wounds Campaign setting. Place your preorder or learn more about the project here

Ry stood,
marking his breath.

All around,
the crowd murmured but Ry gave them no mind.

In the
center of the sand, some foppish talker yelled through some manner of
amplification cone, working up the onlookers. This was all parts of the fights here,
in the arena; the money changing hands, the gambling, the big talk-talk, the
anticipation & the lust for blood. Ry’s blood he assumed they preferred…
though he supposed they’d settler for the reigning champion’s after the
half-orc broke him apart.

Ry tried not
to smile at the thought; it was unbecoming to the life of contemplation he’d
devoted himself to. But his face flashed a brief smile all the same.

They’d taken
Ry’s potions, his meager gear; leaving him only with his small clothes. But
such trivialities hardly mattered; Ry had little need of the magic stored in
his clanking phials & glass bottles, in his enchanted weapons, not when he
knew and commanded the paths of aether within him and how each could be
unlocked, shifted to fill himself with power. Intuiting that the time for
bluster and talk was drawing to a close, he began to move, assuming the correct
postures: crane takes fish, contented lion, lizard climbs- held each pose for a
breath all the while ‘seeing’ the flows within himself change, glow, and he felt
his flesh charge in response. He grew stronger, faster, his mouth filling with
steam.

Finally, the
announcer finished, bowed and the crowd roared in response. The thousands of
spectators began to shouting a name like a mantra ‘CHANGA, CHANGA, CHANGA.’ The
name of their champion.

The
portcullis opposite Ry opened, and through the ten foot tall arch a grey
skinned, rune inscribed humanoid crouched to get through. In answer to the
crowds sounds of appreciation, the stone giant bellowed, raised his arm in
anticipation of triumph.

Then he
charged flat out towards Ry.

Ry idly
thought the creature was bigger than he’d expected as he finished the last
process. Not for the first time, he wondered how a seeker of knowledge like
himself ended up in situations like this. And, despite countless hours of
meditation to banish such base dross- he felt that flicker of a smile return,
larger than before to split his lips and reveal his sharp teeth. As a young
half-orc, he’d loved nothing more than fighting without weapons... always felt there was something unfair about swords, axes, and more. And even now, decades later,
even now, after all his master’s lessons to empty his heart of desire he still
loved a good fight, loved to test and push and thrill at battle on scales the
child he had been could only dream at. Perhaps he always would love it. He
allowed himself the grin for another breath, suppressed his desire to scream in
joy-rage, and returned his face to a mask of calm.

Empowered by
his final process, Ry leapt fifteen feet into the air to catch the charging
stone giant right in the chin with a punch that would have done his master
proud.

Like this post? Share it!Want more? January is the last month to preorder the Salt in Wounds Campaign setting. Place your preorder or learn more about the project here